Epilogue

The clergyman stepped to the front and looked first to Martha and then to the Marquess of Granton. Martha's heart was beating rather quickly, her desire to stand with her hand on her betrothed's growing ever more quickly. For the moment, however, she had to content herself with standing with her hand on her father's arm, knowing that these were the last few minutes of her situation as an unmarried lady. Soon, she would be the Marquess' wife, a Marchioness in her own right – and what joy that would bring her! It was not because of the title nor because of the situation she would be placed in but rather, instead, because of the love which she and Lord Granton would share. Their hearts had been opened to each other, their happiness twining together, just as their lives were about to do from this day forward.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this congregation, to join together this Man and this Woman in holy Matrimony."

Martha struggled to give an ear to all that the clergyman was saying, struggling to see anything but the Marquess of Granton. When he had turned to look at her as she had come into the church, she had felt as though his gaze alone had set a fire ablaze in her heart. A fire which now swept through her very being.

"James, Marquess of Granton, wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honour, and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?"

Martha smiled quietly as she heard the Marquess speak. His voice was soft but determined, holding a promise there which she soon too would match with one of her own.

"I will."

The clergyman nodded. "And you, Miss Martha Newton, daughter to the Earl of Hampshire, wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love, honour, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?"

Turning to look at Lord Granton, her eyes sought his as he smiled at her. "I will."

"And now we come to the vows."

Perhaps unaware – or uncaring – of the many emotions which swept through Martha and, no doubt, Lord Granton too, the clergyman continued on with the service, his voice a little dull as though this was one of the many marriages he had completed that day.

"And now we come to the vows." He turned to nod to Lord Granton who suddenly frowned, his expression growing serious. Martha did not find herself alarmed, understanding that this moment held a great weight upon it. It was to be the time when they made their promises to each other but also before God. Solemnity was expected and required.

"If you might speak your words, Lord Granton?"

In answer to the clergyman's statement, Lord Granton nodded, took in a deep breath and turned to look at Martha. "I take you, Lady Martha Newton, as my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance."

Her heart wanted to explode in her chest, such was her joy. Tears began to burn in the corner of Martha's eyes as she too whispered her words of promise, seeing Lord Granton's steady gaze and drawing strength from that. "I take thee, James, Marquess of Granton, as my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance."

Lord Granton smiled and a single tear of happiness dropped to Martha's cheek.

"Who gives this woman to be wed?"

It was with great joy that Martha's hand was settled upon Lord Granton's, her father now stepping back from her, leaving her in the care of the Marquess. She could not speak, glad that her vows were spoken for at this juncture, she did not dare trust her voice. How wonderful a moment this was! The gentleman that she had never thought she could love, the gentleman she had fought to escape was now placing a ring on her finger and promising to be hers and hers alone, for the rest of her days.

"With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow." Slipping the ring onto her finger, Lord Granton let out a soft sigh and then smiled, pressing her fingers lightly. Martha smiled back at him, wishing desperately that she could fling her arms around his neck and pull herself tight against him.

But the clergyman was not yet finished.

"Those whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder. For as much as Lord Granton and Lady Newton have consented together in holy wedlock and have witnessed the same before God and this company, and thereto have given and pledged their troth either to other and have declared the same by giving and receiving of a ring, and by joining of hands, I pronounce that they be man and wife together, In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen."

"Amen," Martha breathed, her heart in her throat as Lord Granton took her by the hand and led her through to sign the register. The clergyman witnessed her doing so and, upon taking the papers, left both Martha and the Marquess alone.

Martha looked back at her husband, her hands reaching out for him and, in a moment, she was in his arms.

"My darling." Lord Granton brushed her temple with his lips, his arms holding her gently. "We are wed. We are husband and wife."

"Can you believe it?" Looking up at him, Martha laughed softly as the gentleman she loved shook his head, grinning broadly.

"I can hardly believe any of this," he told her, moving back just a little and taking her hands in his. "Your forgiveness, your trust, your promise to me… it is all almost too wonderful for me to take in." His expression softened, his blue eyes filled with tenderness as he tilted his head, taking her in. "You are quite marvelous, my dear."

Martha blushed hot but smiled. "You have proven yourself, Granton," she answered, seeing him smile. "I do not doubt your words of love and care for me. I see it in your actions, in your words, in your looks of love towards me." She squeezed his hands. "And know that I love you in return."

"I do not doubt it," he answered, coming closer to her again, his voice gentle. "I shall not let a day go by without feeling gratitude for your love, Martha. A rogue such as myself does not deserve such a thing."

"But you are a rogue no longer," she reminded him, reaching up to frame his face, her fingers brushing through his hair. "No longer a scoundrel, no longer a rascal." She smiled softly as he bent his head to kiss her. "Now, Lord Granton, you are mine."

"And yours alone," he promised, brushing her lips with his own. "From this day on and forever."

THE END